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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Granny Mae was a sweet old soul, but Granddad - not so much. His all time favorite things were downin’ flies by spittin’ chew... Droppin’ lines - illegally - from bridges...snaggin’ cats...an’ brewin’ Buckeye County’s most prestigious mountain dew! Evinrude was famous for his expertise at spittin’...sellin’ fish to friends an’ kin for seven cents a pound... And bein’ great at hidin’ stills when - as they often did - them sneaky federal boys from ATF came sniffin’ ‘round. Known throughout the county for his belly-burnin’ hooch, Granddad was a legend ‘mongst the locals for his brew... And those who didn’t want him caught was always pointin’ agents off in ‘wrong directions’...claiming things that wasn’t true! The revenuers - mystified - dubbed him with the nicknames - ‘Slipp’ry Slim’...‘Magic Man’...and ‘Buckeye County’s Ghost’! Every time they’d set up road blocks - thick with cops and G-men - even if they’d planted three, four cars at every post - Evinrude would always find a way for slippin’ through! The one thing none could ever say was --- Granddad wasn’t sly! He never spent a day in jail for brewin’ or for sellin’, an’ - far as fin’ly quittin’ goes -I’m ‘bout to tell ya’ why. With New Year’s Eve a day away and many eager clients, not to disappoint them...‘round an hour after dark... With forty jugs o’ cider loaded up to take the ride...me an’ Granny watched that sucker yank ‘er out o’ park... Slam his souped up, Hemi-powered pickup into gear...raise a cloud o’ backwoods dust to where the highway was... Then heard the rubber howlin’ when his tires grabbed the road...followed by the sirens of the overanxious fuzz! Familiar with the swerves an’ curves, he’d drive without his lights - and - were the highway fully blocked - he’d actually leave the road! The federal boys were baffled when he’d suddenly disappear, assuming he’d outrun them once again, for all they knowed. Never figuring out that - now ‘n’ then he’d kill his motor...coast into a secret nook - of which they weren’t aware... And...after all the federal boys and county cops had passed...laugh at their ineptitude and quietly leave his lair! And each secluded meeting place that Granddad chose to use - always somewhere deep within the Buckeye County woods - Served to keep the revenuers - bound to bring him in - from viewing their exchanges when he’d peddle off his goods. But - knowing that the likelihood of fin’ly gettin’ caught was rising exponentially with every passing run - Granddad stunned us all one morning, tellin’ Granny Mae, “The fact is, dear, my days of runnin’ sour mash are done! “The fact that our great grandson has a strong dislike for drinkin’ swayed me into thinkin’ that it’s prob’ly time I stop.” But I’m convinced he actually quit ‘cause -- on that day he’d learned -- that Evinrude the 4th, ya’ see --- had just become a COP! My books and Audio-CDs are @ writerofbooks.com
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